Chapter 2

2

" A re ye mute? Speak."

Leah remained frozen under the grand carved archways of the Great Hall. The weight of the situation felt as if she had been pushed under the blade of a guillotine. The laird's presence loomed like a tempest, fierce and unyielding. Struggling with the words stuck to the roof of her mouth, Leah stared at the laird dumbfounded.

"Ye do understand the words that are comin' out of me mouth do ye nae? Then speak."

"And what is it that the laird wants me to say?" Leah managed to shove off her lips. She didn't expect the tone to be so harsh, but she couldn't help it. Fear tainted and stained each syllable. Her predicament weighed down on her like a wet wool blanket.

"Do ye want me to thank ye for the cruel treatment I've received? Or perhaps ye'd rather I just leave? Because let's face it I daenae belong here. And I demand that ye release me. I'm nay gift or prize to be had. Ye cannae treat people like this, I daenae care who they say ye are."

"So ye ken of me, do ye?" the laird asked. There was a malicious glean in his eye that made Leah question whether she wanted to speak again.

"Only the rumors. But from what I've personally experienced, I'd say they are all true."

"What do ye ken?" the laird huffed as he folded his massive arms over his chest and glared at Leah. Her heartbeat quickened. She wasn't sure if it was the thrill of defying him or the curiosity of what he'd do to her. Was he truly as mad and delusional as the rest of Moray claimed him to be? It was a question that burned and turned like a roasted boar over a pit.

"I ken Latin, Greek, and French, same as ye I'm sure," she answered, uncertain how to proceed. Everything about the man gave her chills. Yet the tenderness in his touch, as he removed her restraints, hinted at a gentler side.

"Aye, anyone with half a brain would ken how to read and speak the languages of the poets," the laird said.

"The laird reads poetry?" Leah asked as she tilted her head and stared at him. She tried to wrap her head around how a warrior as brutal as the laird before her could have the patience for poetry.

"If the occasion calls for it," he answered as his eyes narrowed. "Now tell me who ye are and what it is ye’re doin' here with Sean."

Leah pulled in a long, deep breath as she rubbed the pain from her wrists. Chewing her lower lip, she tried to recall the last thing she remembered before having the world snuffed out behind a burl lap sack.

"Where to start?" Leah said, pressing her fingers to her temples and closing her eyes. The Grand Hall disappeared, and Leah stood alone in the darkness. Concentrating, she pulled every detail she could. "I worked for Laird O'Malley as his healer for seven years. I was on me way home when me carriage was overrun and I was taken. Now, I daenae ken why it is I have been brought here, but with all due respect, I'd like to go home."

"Aye," the laird said, rubbing the stubble on his chin as his eyes bore into her. The lack of sympathy shouldn't have concerned her, but it did. After all, she was in the presence of the mad laird; what he would do or say to her was as much of a mystery as why she was there.

"So, I may take me leave?" Leah asked. She tried to keep her tone as steady as she could, but it cracked under the laird's malicious gaze.

"I will say that this was done without me consent. It is late and as much as I'm sure ye want to be free from me presence, I cannae allow it."

"What?" Leah gasped as she involuntarily stepped forward. It wasn't like she was a match for him. The man was practically double her size. But his order to keep her there rocked her. "Ye cannae keep me here."

"There is a storm coming and I'd rather nae have yer blood on me hands. Ye'll be able to go about yer way at first light," he answered. The command was unexpected. Was this not the "Mad Laird" Leah had heard of growing up? Yet, there was nothing odd about him from what she could tell. If anything, he seemed isolated and somber.

His words were like a balm, soothing the raw edges of her anxiety. She blinked at him, completely dumbfounded and in awe of the laird before her. The laird clearly was not the monster she had been led to believe. So who was he? It was a question that would plague her the longer she stared at him. Everything about him contrasted with what she had been told.

"Yer gaze is very direct," he said as Leah noticed he had been watching her watching him. "Say what it is that is on yer tongue and be done with it."

Leah couldn't help but recoil at the harshness of his defensive tone. She swallowed hard and dropped her eyes to the cobbled stone floor.

"I've nothin' to say," she answered, averting her eyes. But the Mad Liard’s presence was alluring. Daring to steal another glimpse of him, a shiver of pleasure raced up her spine. He was a mighty man with his broad shoulders and rugged features. Leah found herself intrigued by the stranger before her.

"I'll have me servants make a room for ye. And I vow nay harm will come to ye while yer head rests under me roof."

Leah blinked at him as the bewilderment settled in her bones. She watched as the laird arched his eyebrow and gave her a once over. Heat rushed like a current of water under Leah's skin as she drew her eyes to meet his. It was as if he were undressing her with his gaze. And just as quickly as the heat came, it was gone, and its absence left her cold.

“If ye ken why I was brought here, please tell me,” Leah implored. She wasn’t sure if it was his attention she was after or a way to escape the situation. The laird arched his eyebrow, and his hooded eyes remained transfixed on Leah, causing her heart to skip. How was it that he could disarm her so easily?

“I daenae ken why Sean brought ye to me, other than to have ye take a look at me brother.”

"Is yer brother sick, me laird?" Leah asked. He paused and flexed his jaw. Without even a sideways glance, his lips twisted as he spoke.

"Me brother is frail. What do ye ken of it?"

"The man who took me," Leah answered, uncertain why she just couldn't keep her mouth shut. "I heard him mention that I was to be a gift for both ye and yer brother."

"As I told ye," the laird said with a silky smooth tone that made Leah feel as if she were walking on a double-edged sword. The protectiveness in the laird's tone could not go unnoticed. "He's frail."

“Do ye ken what’s wrong with him?” Leah asked as she found herself longing to keep him with her. The way he looked at her was unnerving and thrilling.

“There’s been a wide spectrum of answers to that question,” he answered, his tone short and icy. “Daenae think that with one look ye could miraculously give me the right answer.”

"Ye never ken, I could help him."

"So have many others and they've failed. What makes ye think ye could do any better?"

Leah's heart fluttered wildly as she stared him down. She didn't have an answer for him, just the desire to ease the pain he held. The laird was a conundrum she found herself yearning to solve and heal.

"If maybe I ken what was wrong with him, I'd have a better idea as to how to treat him."

"Sean dinnae mention to ye why me brother is ill?"

Leah shook her head. "Just that I'd make the perfect gift for ye. Which I must say, I find offensive. I'm nae a gift. Nor should any human be treated in such a manner."

"I've put the man in the dungeons. Is that nae justice enough for ye? Or is it vengeance ye seek? Retribution perhaps? I can tell ye, ye'll nae like how it tastes. Tis nae as sweet as one would think."

"I have nay desire for such things," Leah said, finding herself entranced by the way the laird's mouth moved as he spoke. The words may have come out like venom, but the undercurrent felt like a river of velvet ushering to a safe harbor.

The laird arched his eyebrow and glared at her a moment before clearing his throat. "Follow me."

"Where are ye takin' me?" Leah asked as the laird curled his fingers around her arm and escorted her from the Great Hall.

"Ye think ye can help me brother, then let's see what ye can do."

Their footsteps echoed through the corridors. The tapestries and paintings adorning the walls stunned her. She had never seen such fine art before and attention to detail. She could see how a man with the reputation of the laird could surround himself with such beauty.

"Here we are," the laird said as he stopped at the door. Leah gasped as she plowed into him, nearly knocking herself over in the process. The heat of embarrassment touched her cheeks as her chest tightened. Killian’s eyes narrowed as he grabbed her by the arm to steady her. His grip on her elbow shocked her. She wasn’t expecting the gush of excitement as his fingers curled around her arm as she righted herself.

“Forgive me,” she mumbled.

“Do ye always have this much trouble walkin’?” Killian asked as he turned his attention to the door. Leah rolled her shoulders back, readying herself for whatever lurked beyond the closed door. All she knew was that if she didn't want to face the laird's wrath, she'd do her best.

"Laird MacMillan," the man beside the bed gasped as he jumped to greet his laird. His gaze immediately shifted to Leah, and for a moment, she wondered if she should be there at all. "What is this? We werenae expectin’ to have ye here today. And ye brought a stranger, fascinatin’."

"A healer," Killian answered as he nudged Leah deeper into the room. "I want her to have a look at Mason."

"Miss Elsie just left. I doubt that this woman can give us any better insight as to what ails Mason," the man said as Killian moved to the foot of the bed.

"This is me brother, Mason," Killian introduced without batting an eye in Leah's direction. "He's been ill all his life. Isnae that right, braither?"

There was malice and frustration seeping from the laird's tone that pricked Leah. She couldn't tell if the laird was more irritated due to the inability to help his brother or because he had cared for the man for so long and was tired of doing it.

"Mason, me name is Leah, Leah Henderson. I was a healer for the O'Malley clan. Do ye mind if I take a look at ye?" Leah asked as she moved carefully and with purpose to the edge of the bed.

"Relax, Alan," Mason chuckled. "I daenae think she's come to kill me."

"Why would ye think that?" Killian asked as Leah noticed his hands balling into tight fists. Mason flashed Killian a deathly glare. Clearly, the two were engaged in an unspoken war that Mason was destined to win. "Never mind. Ye do what ye will. If ye daenae want her to look over ye, fine."

"If she is a true healer," Alan chimed in. Leah couldn't help but notice the man's peppered gray hair and hooked nose. He looked like a wise old sage with his white whiskers and friendly smile. "Then let her look. The more hands on the problem, the quicker we'll find a solution."

"Alan is one of twenty council members," Killian said as he leaned over Leah’s shoulder, his hot breath caressing her neck. A tingle of pleasure raced up Leah’s spine as Killian moved around her as if he were a fierce, protective wolf. "If ye havenae noticed. He speaks with a silver tongue to appease all sides."

"What can I say? It's a gift that has allowed me to live as long as I have," Alan chuckled as Leah took a weary step closer to Mason. She dared to steal a glimpse at Killian as if ensuring that she was allowed to continue. With Killian’s eyes boring into her, Leah wondered how she was able to move at all. He enchanted her, stole her attention and her wits.

"Pay nay mind to me brother," Mason mumbled, pulling Leah out of the daze Killian had ensnared her with. Mason’s voice was raspy and weak. By the pale color on his cheeks that held just a whisper of a blush, Leah was certain Mason was suffering from some sort of an infection. But what kind, she wasn't sure. It wasn't like she'd be able to figure it out just with a once over.

"Well?" Killian snapped as he folded his arms over his chest. She glanced up at him, feeling the intensity of his gaze as if he had harnessed the power of the sun. "Do ye ken what's wrong with him?"

"Forgive me, but I'm goin' to need more than just a moment to figure that out. I can tell he needs more garlic and sunlight. His skin and eyes are too yellow. Ye'll need to get him outside more."

"Out of the question," Killian barked. His rejection shot through Leah like an arrow through its target.

"I'm nae as fragile as ye think I am brother. I can get more sunlight if that will help."

"Sunlight and food? That is yer remedy? Any fool on the moors could have given me that answer."

"The garlic will help clear out the cough lingering in yer brother's chest. As for what else is botherin' him, I'd need to examine him further," Leah countered, trying to keep her tone neutral. Killian's fierceness to protect his brother only exposed just how hurt and worried he was for his brother.

"Do what ye can," Killian said, stepping away from the bed as if to give her full command of the room and situation.

Leah pulled in a long, deep breath as she gave Mason her full attention.

"How is yer chest? Is it tight? Or does it feel like ye're breathin' fire?" Leah asked as she leaned closer, pressing her ear to his chest.

"Please, ye cannae stay here. Forget about me and leave as soon as ye can. Trust me, ye daenae want to be here," Mason whispered. His voice was so low that Leah doubted anyone else in the room could hear him.

"I leave in the mornin'," Leah answered as she checked around Mason's ears and neck for any boils or sores. Relief flickered in his eyes, but the urgency and warning in his tone lingered like smoke.

"Good. Ye must save yerself."

"Well?" Killian asked. His voice had dropped and was like silk to the ear. Leah closed her eyes, savoring the sound of his seductive tone as it taunted her. She glanced over her shoulder at him, daring to find his gaze. His eyes were deep with sparks of intrigue skipping on the edges of her mind. How did he hold such power over her? She’d been in O’Malley’s service after all, and yet here was a man who stripped her to her core with a mere glance.

"Give the lass a moment, what do ye think she is? An angel with the powers to miraculously heal?" Alan chimed in. His kind words made Leah blush as a smile tugged on her lips. She tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Embarrassment flushed through her like a flood ripping down the canyon. If only they knew what was really going on inside the darkest recesses of her mind.

"I can tell that Mason needs herbal tea to sooth his throat, more garlic and rosemary in his food to help counter the congestion. Sunlight will help him improve significantly. Even if it's openin' the curtain and lettin' fresh air into the room."

Killian stared at her as she gave her report, his stoic expression never once failing as he dropped his arms to his side.

"I've got to say that ye've given him more of a diagnosis than anyone else has," Alan said with a hint of pride ringing in his voice. "For that, surely the lass deserves some boon for her troubles."

"Thank ye, truly, but ye daenae have to give me anythin'," Leah said. "Ye're already providin' me with a place to lay me head tonight, which is more than kind of ye."

"Nonsense," Killian said. "The councilman is right as usual. Ye rendered services to me brother, and for that ye shall be paid. Follow me."

Leah glanced over her shoulder to Mason. The warning on his lips was like an alarm to her heart. She swallowed hard as she tried to make out what he was trying to convey.

"Leave as soon as ye can," Mason mouthed as Killian escorted her from the room.

"With a bit more time, I'm sure I could figure out how to help yer brother more."

"Ye've done enough."

Killian's tone was coarse and stern as he charged down the hallway. The castle was like a maze as they made one turn after another until Leah found herself standing before a mighty oak desk in the middle of the study.

"Here," Killian said, reaching into one of the drawers and pulling out a hefty bag. The coins jingled as she caught it. "For yer services."

The weight surprised her. She whipped her head up, surprised by the laird's generosity.

"This is too much," Leah said, offering to give him back some of the coins.

"Who is to say it is too much? Ye've done more than any healer. Most walk into the room and tell me me brother is on death's door. Ye walk in and give me practical solutions. Why should I nae pay ye for yer work?"

Leah clutched the purse, feeling more than grateful. The money would help her start a new life and while her day may have started off horrifically, it had drastically improved in the blink of an eye.

"It's late," Killian said as he extinguished the candles around the study with a single touch. "Ye should rest."

"Thank ye," Leah whispered. Her words lingered in the air like a secret. She found herself drawn to him as the room faded into darkness. Killian didn't speak as Leah reached for his hand.

A gasp escaped from her as her fingers brushed over unfamiliar bumps riddling the palm of Killian's hand. She snatched his palm and studied it as if it held the secrets to the universe.

Her questions lingered in the silence as her eyes met his.

"The things we survive," Killian whispered as a dark smile curled his lip. It was his crooked smirk that chilled her to the bone. Her pulse raced as an awareness flooded her senses. She pulled back, suddenly self-conscious, and felt as if she were trapped in a room with a black bear recently woken by spring.

"Thank ye, Laird MacMillan for yer hospitality," Leah said with a quick bow. "I should go and prepare for me trip."

Leah stood before him, eagerly waiting to be dismissed. Killian didn't say a word but waved his hand, giving her permission to leave. Turning on her heels, Leah rushed for the door as Mason's warning rang in her heart.

Leave as soon as ye can.